


Reconnect

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [440]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Post canon, reconnecting, straddling muggle and wizarding worlds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 02:05:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11049036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: The babies, it turns out, bridge a lot of gaps.





	Reconnect

The babies, it turns out, bridge a lot of gaps.

Rose Granger-Weasley is four days old the first time Hermione brings her by her parent’s house. It’s not the house she grew up in, because that one was sold under the memory modification. It’s a nice enough place, but there’s practically no sign the couple ever had a daughter who lived there.

After all, they spent nearly a year and a half with no memory of even having a daughter. She had lifted the memory charm but they hadn’t necessarily forgiven her. To tell the truth, there’s always been some sort of gap there, between them. Hermione had involved herself in a war as a child, a war she kept running off for that her parents couldn’t hope to understand or gather appropriate information about.

She’s talked to other muggle-borns over the years, heard their stories of how they do–or don’t–keep their parents involved in their lives. She’s always hoped to keep hers in in some way or another, and maybe that’s why she brings Rosie by, bouncing the fussy baby in her arms as she walks down the neat little side street.

By the time Hugo comes along not too much later, the house is filled with baby toys, the upstairs bedroom is equipped for children, the house is child-proofed, and her parents have thoroughly quizzed her on the care of a magical baby.

“Just like a regular one,” Hermione says, perhaps belaying the statement by summoning the burp cloth when it proves to be out of reach. “Only someday she’ll reach a stage where she gets angry and accidentally breaks things with magic, or makes her dolls move without touching them, or takes a spill and bounces instead of skinning her knee.”

If Hermione hadn’t been sure about this, she would be now. She’s watched Teddy Lupin through his childhood, and James Potter is just a few years older than her Rosie. And her mother-in-law, after all, is a font of knowledge when it comes to children.

Still. There’s something heart-warming about her mother taking a fussy Rose from her one afternoon after tea, and patting her back while humming a tune Hermione doesn’t recognize. When Rose drifts off to sleep, her mother smiles. “You always liked that one.”

When Hugo is born, her parents are there, and she knows how hard that must have been, to get the muggles into the hospital. Harry takes care of it before flooing home to Ginny and their kids and Rose, Ron in the delivery room with her, and Molly and Arthur in the waiting room, hopefully watching over her parents.

Her Dad takes a picture on a muggle camera–Arthur is predictably fascinated–of Hermione in bed, exhausted but smiling, cradling Hugo, with Rose sitting by her side, Ron standing at the other side of the bed. It goes up on the mantle of the new house, not really very new anymore, and remains there along with dozens of other photos of the children, magical and non.

So, really, it’s the children that bring them back together, after the war and the intermittent years of growing apart. Right up until they go to Hogwarts, her children spend one weekend a month with the Grangers, with Hermione and Ron joining them for Sunday dinner, and the house seems more and more broken in, loved and lived in, each and every time they arrive.


End file.
